I suppose it is time for a countdown. I have but three days left of working in downtown. I have to say, I’m going to miss it. There is so much interesting stuff to photograph and I really did not take advantage of the situation. Coming across stuff like the face above the doorway is just a nice little serendipitous treat. I may have to get off a stop early at 19th St the rest of the week, just so I have some morning walking to do, and a chance to get in a few more shots.
Of course, there will be new things to see in my new neighborhood. If I can re-establish the habit of biking to work, then it will simply be whole new chapter of commute photography. The weather is finally looking up, so perhaps I’ll be able to start that soon.
Right now, the lunch rush is to shoot as much as possible in downtown in the time I have left. I’m gettin’ everything I can from big to small, and close to far. The downside is forgetting to eat, and then getting low blood sugar and then wandering around looking for the perfect thing that I want to eat right now that I’m fixated on and that only exists in my addled mind. And then I end up back in the cafeteria on the fifth floor of the Federal Building. At least I get some photos out of it.
This morning’s commute was inspiring. Starting with the dumped over the shopping cart and bag of baby shoes and ending with downtown buildings in soft overcast light.
“Confusion will be my epitaph
as I crawl a cracked and broken path
If we make it, we can all sit back and laugh
But I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying
yes, I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying”
I’m not sure what further connection there is between these two yet, but I feel strongly that there is one.
Each time I visit my hometown, I feel a little more sad nostalgia for the once-vibrant downtown. My parents lived in one of the old residential neighborhoods in downtown when I was born. I’m not sure our house on S St. was officially within the area now referred to as Old Armenian Town, but we had many Armenian neighbors, which was fine for our Greek immigrant family.
Of course, as a teenager and even young adult, I didn’t think much about the neighborhood in which I spent my toddlerhood. But a few years later when it dawned on me that it would be really nice to see the street (or even the house!) in which we lived, I was sadly disappointed to find that not only was the house gone, several blocks of S St. no long existed, having been turned into medical office complexes around nearby Fresno Community Hospital (where I was born). Even some of this is now gone and replaced with a disappointing-looking condo complex. Still, about every third or fourth visit to Fresno, I would drive down there and wander the streets hoping I would discover some hidden fragment of S St. that would be a little time capsule, an example of what it was all once like, an indication of where I came from. Eventually, I sort of, well, got over it.
Two years ago, however, I got worked up again when I learned that the City had approved (re)development plans for what sounded like a cheese-ball commercial project to commemorate Old Armenian Town, called, oddly enough, “Old Armenian Town.” They demolished the last of the former Armenian neighborhood, saved three or four small houses, and moved them over to an empty field directly next to the elevated freeway, where, I guess, they would be “on display.” There they have been on display ever since, up on blocks and surrounded by chain link and barbed wire, disintegrating in the Fresno summer. Links to an alleged page about the “Old Armenian Town” on the Fresno Redevelopment Agency web site return “page not found” and no mention of this “major commercial development” is made anywhere I could find on the site. This is no surprise. Counting the number of empty lots around Fresno where historic buildings once stood but now mark the sites of developments that stalled after the demolition phase is a lengthy, tedious exercise. If anyone knows anything more about the project, leave a note. I’d love to hear something good about it. At this stage, something would be better than nothing, I suppose.
Well, when I started this post, I meant to talk about my little photo walk in the neighborhood just to the south of the Fulton Mall and post some photos. Instead I became distracted by Old Armenian Town. Forgive me for that. I’ll get back to the photo walk shots in a day or so. In the meantime, here’s a couple more shots of the spot, including a nice one of the Sycamore trees I remember all over the neighborhood when I was small.
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